


To Love Oneself First

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anorexia Athletica, Eating Disorders, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, John Winchester Dies, M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25007893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: Sam and Dean grew up hard. Things happened to them, no matter how much they tried to control their own lives. So Sam decides he is going to do anything-anything!-it takes to never need help from anyone ever again. That makes it painfully difficult for his new friend Cas, whose only desire in the world is to help Sam.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 26
Kudos: 61





	1. The First Rule of Being a Winchester

“We do what we do and we shut up about it. You know that.”

Sam felt his nails digging into his palms, fists trembling with how hard he was clenching them. “It isn’t right,” he murmured, more to himself than his brother, who never listened. Tears trailed down his cheeks. “It just isn’t.”

Dean picked himself up off the floor and dropped the rag into the bucket with a sigh. “Go to bed, Sammy. This is going to take me a while. Go on.”

“I can help.”

“No. You got to get some sleep. And you can’t handle the smell. You know that.”

You know that. Always, you know that. Yeah. Sam knew. And he hated it all. “You’ll come to bed too when you’re done?”

Dean nodded, but he was looking down at the mess on the floor, and sighing again, and Sam knew he couldn’t count on it. He glared down at the offensive stain, and then he retreated into the bedroom. 

He could hear John coughing violently. It seemed impossible to sleep, knowing that Dean was in the kitchen cleaning vomit from the walls while their father was dying as obdurately as he could just one door away. But that was the reality of their lives, and before Sam knew it, moonlight from the window was waking him. The clock read eleven. 

A simple glance told him Dean had never come to bed. Sam sighed, and swung his legs to lift himself up. He knew where he would find his brother. Obedient and loyal as an attack dog, he would be on John’s chair, dozing lightly, and still listening for any sign that the man needed him, guarding his father with determination that sliced through Sam’s heart. 

Sam padded silently into the room, and looked at his father for a moment. Even in sleep, he seemed angry and in pain. John was terrifying. Sam had loved and feared him his whole life. Watching him die didn’t change that. 

He turned his gaze to Dean, snoring very softly, sprawled in the recliner John spent most of his time in these days. Somehow, his big brother seemed small, and very young, sleeping there in John’s chair. 

Sam loathed the smell. 

A light touch startled Dean awake. “What?” he hissed irritably. “He say something? He need something? Why are you up?”

Sam scowled at him. “He’s asleep. Come on. Get in your bed. I’ll sit with him if it means you’ll sleep.”

“I’m fine here.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re full of crap. And you look like crap. Go to bed. He’s going to sleep most of the day. No reason you can’t get a little too. You go now and you can get four hours before you gotta be up for work.”

Dean swallowed. He let his gaze fall on John’s still figure. “Yeah. Okay. You’re right. Four hours in a real bed sounds good. Thanks for sitting with him, Sammy. If he wakes up or if he needs-“

“I know. Go.”

He watched his brother slip from the room and disappear down the hall. Then he turned to his father again. 

“You happy?” he whispered bitterly. “This how you want it? Really? How is this better than going to somebody for help? Going to a hospital?”

They couldn’t afford a hospital, and anyway John refused. So instead, his fourteen year old son had taken to sleeping in the same room to nurse him. 

Sam closed his eyes as he settled into the chair himself. “You know Dean’s working for you? Doing your jobs because you can’t? Because you won’t let us get help. He’s not old enough to get a real job, but so long as they don’t know it’s him doing it, it don’t matter. So long as they think it’s you. Then he comes home and cleans you up and makes you eat and cleans the floor when you get sick, and puts you back to bed, and never complains. What’s going to happen when you’re gone, Dad? You’re not insured. The house isn’t paid off. Know how I know all that? Because Dean knows it. And he cries and talks to you just like I do, when he thinks I can’t hear. He’s scared. But you won’t let him ask anyone for help. It’s too much, Dad. You can’t put this on him. I want to tell someone we need help. But he says he won’t ever speak to me again if I do. So it’s got to be you. You need to tell him, to let him…”

He shook his head. What was the point of arguing with a man who couldn’t hear him and wouldn’t listen if he could hear?

“You know,” he muttered, “I can remember when you took us hunting. Do you remember that, Dad? Taught us everything. How to live if we had to. How to survive. Gave us the same lessons you used to teach guys in the Marines. Know what you never taught us, Dad? You forgot the lessons about how to pay the mortgage. How to fix the water heater. How to...How to make a sick veteran get his ass to the VA before it’s too late.”

It was already too late. They all knew that. But it might not have been, months ago. Sam would never forgive his father for that, for accepting a fate he could have fought. For damning Dean to this hell without support. For leaving Sam helpless. For giving up when his sons needed him to be the strong drill sergeant he had always been. 

Sam would never give up. He would always keep fighting, till his last breath. He promised himself this every day, when he could hear his father coughing and growling at Dean. Sam would never roll over and let something take him. His father had taught him to be a warrior, and he would never surrender, especially not when others needed him. Especially not if Dean needed him.


	2. The Fault of the Ford

It was three weeks after John died that Dean got caught, and he should have been proud of himself for pulling it off for so long. Maybe he would have been, if he had time to really think of it. Instead, he was terrified. 

The sheriff’s office was called in. The truth came out, that Dean had been pretending to be his father at two jobs. He cleaned offices in the early morning before school, and no one cared much who was doing it so long as it got done. He probably could have pulled that one off for years. It was the other one that had gotten him in trouble. After school, he went to the junkyard and worked on cars, stripping them down or building them up, until his knuckles were bloody. He was alone at that time of day. The work was left for him, and all he had to do was work through his checklist until he had to get home to help John and feed Sammy, and sleep a few hours till the cleaning gig before school started. 

It was that damn, smashed up Ford pickup that had changed everything. The problem was that it was new. 

Dean knew old cars. He loved old cars. Give him some time and he could strip one down and rebuild it from scratch. But John had never taught him about the infuriating new machines. Dean knew enough to get by. He could fake it, and he learned more every evening he worked. But there was just too much digital tech in this particular pickup. He had researched it online at the school library during lunch, tried to memorize all he could. But whether his empty stomach and lack of sleep had ganged up on his brain, or whether his brain just wasn’t up to the task to begin with, hours later Dean was sitting in gravel against the front tire of the stupid truck, covered in dirt and grease, in coveralls that were too large for him, crying dust streaks down his face in frustration, long after he should have gone home. Finding himself in that position was bad enough, but it was far, far worse when the night security guy found him like that.

Everything was a blur. The police were called, Dean was pleading, then shouting, then staring sullenly out the back window of a deputy’s car. It was like a film with missing frames, the way he blinked and couldn’t remember what had just happened, or what he had just been told or said. Things were happening too fast. 

Then, suddenly, there was Sammy. 

The world came to a screeching halt, the cacophony became silence, and he stared at his kid brother’s face. 

The child was gray, trembling all over, hugging to his chest a backpack that should have been replaced years ago. Dean wiped at his eyes. It was all the poor kid had, that backpack, and he was clinging to it with all the might a ten year old could wield. 

“I’m so sorry,” Dean tried to say, but he had no voice left. But that was what Dean did. He failed the ones he loved. Nobody knew that better than Sammy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The question of John’s body is left to the imagination, but I suspect that a private midnight funeral was (illegally) held, in a desperate attempt to follow John’s last mandate, that the boys not ask for any help from anyone. The mental health of Dean by that point would have been fairly shattered, and he may not have made the best decisions for him and Sam while determined to do what his father had wanted, whether or not it made logical sense.


	3. Going on Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they were roommates...

The new kid was weird. He did pushups when he woke up, and jogged, like a grownup. But he was quiet, and nice, and he didn’t bother Castiel at all about his own eccentricities. Mostly, he just sat in his bunk and read. The weirdest thing, though, was that his big brother sneaked in every night to sleep on the floor beside his bed. It wasn’t like the older kid didn’t have his own room. He did. He was supposed to room with Benny, and the two of them seemed to get along well enough. But every morning, Castiel would glance down and find the guy passed out and snoring on the rug beside Sam’s bunk, and it was weird. 

“It makes him feel better,” Sam muttered at him when he asked. “He thinks he’s gotta look out for me. Which is stupid. I’m almost eleven.”

“When will you be eleven?”

Sam lowered his gaze. “Ten months.”

Castiel liked him. He was smart, and he never minded when Castiel liked to sleep with the bedside light on. 

Today, school was out, and it felt like freedom. They had thrown their things on their bunks and gotten their chores out of the way, and now they were on the little playground outside, within the fencing of the group home. Sam was lying in the grass, and Castiel was on a swing watching him. There were other guys around them, mostly little, but Castiel saw no one but his roommate. Finally, he leapt from the swing and settled into the grass next to his new friend. 

“What are you reading?”

“Watership Down.”

“What’s it about?”

Sam glanced at him. “Rabbits.”

Castiel tipped his head and narrowed his eyes. “Like...rabbits?”

“Yeah. They’re in these groups, and they’re run like militaries, and they fight with each other, and one of them, the littlest, has like psychic visions.”

“But they’re rabbits.”

Sam looked back at his book. “Yeah.”

He picked a piece of grass and put it between his teeth. “I like raccoons.”

“They’ll claw you.”

“Not if I’m nice to them.”

“You’d die of rabies.”

“Not every raccoon has rabies.”

Sam snorted. “The ones that let you get close enough to be nice to them do.”

Castiel hummed acknowledgement. “I still like them.”

Sam turned his page. 

“So?” Castiel turned onto his stomach and looked up at his friend. “You been here like five weeks now. You gonna tell me your story or what?”

“Nope.”

“I could beat it out of you.”

“You could try.”

Castiel sighed. “Come on. I’ll tell you my story.”

“I know your story. You were left at a hospital when you were a week old, and you’ve been in the system ever since.”

He scowled down at the grass. “How do you know that?”

Sam closed his book finally, and sat up. “Because I broke into the files my first week here and read them all.”

Castiel stared at him, and sat up too. “Really? What’s Benny’s story, then?”

“His dad killed his mom, and he don’t got any other family. So he’s here.”

“Wow. You really did read the files! How did you do that?”

The kid shrugged a little smugly. “Just something I learned to do. I wanted to know what kind of guys we were living with. Garth takes meds for anxiety, and they have to watch him so he doesn’t bite people when he gets scared. Art’s convinced half the staff he’s got a twin brother named Alex who lives on the streets, and really he’s an only child. They’ve called DSS and the police about this brother so many times they put it in his file as a warning. Nobody, even the doctors, know if Art believes it himself or if he’s just an asshole.”

“My guess is asshole.” Castiel watched the boy curiously. “You’re like a grownup.”

His brows shot up. “Why? Because I’m smart?”

“You’re ten. But you have an exercise routine and you read all the time and you know how to break into things you’re not supposed to get into.”

“So?”

“So? Why do you act so old?”

Sam frowned at him. “I don’t. I just...I want to be ready.”

“For what?”

“For anything.” He looked back down at his novel and started thumbing at the pages distractedly. “Anything that might happen, I want to be ready. Strong enough, smart enough. I need to know things. In case things get bad.”

Castiel nodded. He wanted the boy to keep talking, so he stayed quiet himself. 

“Dean, he’s still scared, and he wants to protect me if something happens. But I’m going to be ready. I can take care of myself.”

“What do you think might happen?” he asked quietly, plucking another bit of grass. 

“I don’t know. So I gotta be ready for anything. There isn’t much that can happen that is worse because I’m stronger, right? And it might help. And I can’t know what I might need to know one day. So I learn everything I can. It isn’t that complicated.”

Castiel smiled at him. “Okay. I’ll do that too, then.”

Sam stared at him. “You’ll...do what?”

“Train with you. Learn with you. So anything that happens, we can both handle it. And maybe your brother can relax.”

Gratitude shone in Sam’s eyes. But he shook his head. “Dean won’t ever relax. But...it would be nice to...have a friend.”

Castiel shrugged and lay back down in the grass. “We were already friends. You just didn’t know till now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, if you did the math, congratulations. John did, in fact, die on the week of Sam’s tenth birthday. Sam didn’t bother mentioning it to anyone, and Dean may or may not have remembered, under the circumstances.


	4. That First B & E

Dean had been arrested the night before. 

It was stupid, and careless, and Sam was so livid it had actually frightened Castiel. 

“And you know what else?” he barked. “He said it was okay, that it was just his first B and E.”

“B and-“

“Breaking and entering, Cas. But he’s referring to it as his first!”

Castiel took a breath. “I believe he meant that they may be more lenient since it is his first offense.”

“I don’t care! They can lock him up and throw away the key for all I care!”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No? God, it was so stupid. Him and Benny, breaking into a guy’s vacation home while he’s away, drinking his liquor, and using the pay-per-view to see the Gunner Lawless fight. Like the guy wouldn’t notice he was being charged for something on that television when he wasn’t even in the same state!”

He sighed. “They didn’t hurt anyone. They weren’t armed, and they’re under eighteen. Maybe-“

“I said I don’t care.” 

He watched as Sam slammed his feet into his running shoes. “Are we running?” he inquired. 

“I am. You don’t have to. But I need to.”

He knew Sam needed to run. It was the only way the boy could cool his anger. He just wished Sam wasn’t angry every day of the week. But he nodded. “I’m coming. You know I’m coming.” Because he always did. 

Ever since he had first told Sam he would join him in his training, he had been entirely devoted to the boy. Now he was a high school sophomore, and Sam was a freshman, and they were both at the top of their classes and impressive athletes besides. But it was never going to be enough for Sam. Castiel was realizing that day by day. Sam was never going to feel that he was ready for the world and what it might throw at him. There would always be books to read, more to learn, more intense physical training. Castiel was in it with him, always. But he couldn’t help wishing there would come a day when Sam’s anger and fear didn’t engulf them both so hopelessly. 

They were given permission to head to the school to jog, and Sam led the way at a merciless pace. Castiel made up for Sam’s longer stride with sheer strength, and kept up without trouble. Running with Sam was one of his greatest pleasures in life. 

Sam was one of his greatest pleasures in life. It hadn’t been so long since Castiel had come to the unavoidable conclusion that he was in love with his best friend. He had called it by other names, but the truth was simple. He loved Sam. He worshipped Sam. He spent every possible moment with the boy. No one knew him better, except perhaps his big brother. Even Dean didn’t get to see all the raw emotion Sam displayed only to Castiel, didn’t hear his fears and dreams the way Castiel did. Dean was the protector and the hero, but Castiel was Sam’s confidant. 

By the time they reached the school, Sam was sweating and tired, but he would never allow that to stop him. He turned immediately onto the cross country course, and Castiel went with him with dogged devotion. 

It took another mile before Sam finally began to slow his pace to a comfortable jog instead of a pounding run. Castiel happily paced to match. 

“I’m so worried about him,” his friend murmured finally. 

He smiled to himself. Nevermind the declarations claiming not to care what happened to his brother. Sam would always put Dean before anything in his life. “He’ll be okay, Sam.”

“First he gets in trouble for hoarding food. Then he and Benny leave the home even though it’s the only place they’ll take in guys our age. He quits school. And now this. When is he going to get his life together?”

“He’s seventeen, Sam. And you know what he’s dealt with in his life. He’s just doing the best he can to deal with everything that’s happened.”

“When he was my age, our dad died. Dean took over everything even before that. Everything. Then he gets caught, we’re brought to the group home, and it’s like he gets younger every year instead of growing up more. I hate it.”

Castiel could feel Sam’s exhaustion like a tangible thing. He wanted to suggest they stop, but he knew better. When things hurt, that was when Sam just pushed harder. Castiel had never been able to make the other boy take a break when they both needed one. Today would be no different. 

“I’m starting a new diet tomorrow.”

His friend frowned, but didn’t dare turn to show it. “What are we doing now?”

“It won’t be like last time. This one is good. I did a lot of research. I just wish I could shop for my own groceries, you know? I mean, I use what I have, but that barely covers my protein powder.”

He nodded slowly. “Do you need cash?”

“No. I’m just going to work with what I’ve got. And you can do it too. It’s easy enough. Not like last time.”

He forced himself to smile. “Whatever you think you need, Sam. I’m on board. You know I am.”

“I know. You always are.”


	5. I Loved You Dangerously

The broken glass was everywhere. Sam looked around the room in exasperation. Tears were burning his eyes, tightening his throat, but he fought against them.

Castiel came to investigate the crash. “Are you all right?” he said softly.

“Sure. It’s fine. It’s just a mess. Watch where you walk.”

His friend nodded. “Sam, you need some sleep. Let’s clean this up, and then-“

“I got it. And I’m fine. I just need to get a few more things done, and then I can sleep.”

Castiel was frowning at him. They worked together with a dustpan and broom for several minutes before either of them spoke again. Castiel finished by wiping the floor with a wet paper towel, to get up any last shards, and then turned to Sam. “Have you heard from Dean?”

He shook his head. “He and Benny are on the road. Benny keeps me up to date by text, but I told Dean not to call after our fight last week. I probably won’t hear for another day or two.”

He nodded again. “What’s wrong, Sam?”

He looked up. “What? Nothing! I just knocked over a damn glass just by walking through the kitchen, like the stupid, enormous freak that I am. Smacked it with my elbow. Nothing’s wrong except that I’m a klutz, and that’s always been true, even when I was little.”

Castiel watched him. “You’re not clumsy, Sam.”

“The glass disagrees. Thanks for helping me clean up. I’m going back to study. You need anything?”

“I need you to get some rest, Sam. You’re growing irritable and you’re clearly frustrated-“

“Get off my back, Cas,” he snapped, and strode out of the kitchen and toward his bedroom to slam the door behind him.

Sam dropped onto his bed, and grabbed at the abandoned textbook on the night table. The words were blurry, but he blinked angrily until the tears dissipated. Deoxyoligonucleotides weren’t going to identify themselves. He had to be ready. He was certain the professor would assess them without warning, and Sam had to be ready.

“Sam?”

“Synthetic oligonucleotides…”

“What?”

Sam lifted his head from his book, muttering, “But the site-directed mutagenic…” He frowned. “What?”

Castiel was staring at him. “What?”

“What?”

His friend took a deep breath. “Sam, you’re sleeping on your homework again.”

He shook himself, and felt the grogginess fade in favor of indignation. “What? No, I wasn’t!”

Castiel smirked at him, but there was sympathy there too. “Look, biochemistry puts me to sleep too, every time you try telling me about it.”

Sam scowled down at his book. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? You’re exhausted, Sam! You told me an hour ago that you just had a few more things to do, and then you would sleep.”

“Leave me alone. I’m fine. Maybe...maybe I’ll go for a run. It’ll wake me up, and help me focus on-“

“Sam, stop!” Castiel cried in frustration. “Please! Just stop. It’s two in the morning.”

He checked his watch with a building sense of urgency. “Did you say an hour ago? I broke that glass an hour ago? God, it feels like that was five minutes-I’ve lost a whole hour! I need to get this done.”

“Needing sleep isn’t weakness, Sam. It’s human! Look, maybe you should think about what Dean said, about seeing someone, like Benny helped him do, to talk about-“

He whirled around to face his oldest friend, apart from the big brother who couldn’t mind his own business, with a glower. “Don’t go there.”

Castiel let his gaze drop to his own feet. “Sam, I’m just saying-“

“And I’m telling you, I’m fine. I need to know this stuff. I’ve got to be ready-“

“For what?” he shouted finally.

Sam let his mouth fall open slightly. It was so unlike Castiel to raise his voice. “What?”

“What are you going to be ready for? Why do you always have to be ready? What are you constantly preparing for? All our lives, you’ve been preparing, and it doesn’t look like it’s made you happier. You don’t feel safer! So what’s it for? What is so damn important that it’s worth killing yourself over?”

Sam stared. Horror blanched his face as he realized his old, steadfast friend was choking back tears. “Cas...I’m sorry. You know, just because I do something, that doesn’t mean you have-“

“Yes! It does! It’s always meant that!” Castiel sobbed angrily. “And if I can’t keep up, you’ll do it alone, and I can’t let you do that! I can’t let you…” He gasped in a breath tainted with frustration. “I can’t let you torture yourself alone. If I can’t stop you, I have to do it with you. If you choose that you should suffer, you choose it for me too.”

Confusion fogged his mind. “What are you talking about?” he hissed.

Castiel’s hands were splayed open, gesturing around them in desperation. “This! All of it! Sam, we don’t even…” He tried to take another breath. “Sam, we don’t even eat anymore. Not really. Not unless Dean is here. And now you made him go. Don’t you get it? You’ve cut off your brother, made him leave you, not because you’re really angry with him, but because you know he’d make you stop this! It’s not okay, Sam. It’s never been okay, and I can’t keep up!”

Sam shook his head and stood slowly. “Cas, I don’t get it. You’ve kept up with everything I’ve ever tried to-“

“I trained for this,” he breathed out voicelessly. “I thought I knew what I was getting into. But I didn’t see...Nobody ever told me what it would be like if I fell in love with you! That wasn’t supposed to happen! Nobody warned me what loving Sam Winchester would do to me!”

Sam’s stomach was empty, hollow. The feeling of it gnawing at his last energy reserves made him feel like he had achieved something, had succeeded in something. But it also made him struggle to concentrate, and right now, he needed to be able to follow what his friend was telling him. Love? In love? Not brothers, not friends, but in love?

Tears poured down Castiel’s pale, gaunt cheeks in streams. “I’ve failed you.” He spoke entirely without voice now, and it scared Sam.

“What? You’ve never failed at anything! You’re the smartest, most athletic, most…”

Exhaustion painted those blue eyes a dull gray. “I am smart,” he wept. “And I’m the fastest angel in the garrison. I always have been. But, Sam, I can’t fly fast enough to keep up with you.”

“Fastest...What are you talking about? Cas, look. You’re tired, and maybe a little hungry. Come on. I’ve got granola bars in the cupboard. It’s going to be all right.”

But the young man simply shook his head and smiled sadly. “Before I took this assignment, before they sent me to become that abandoned baby who was about to be reaped, I had never been a true guardian. I was a soldier. Soldiers look down their noses at guardians, as if their jobs are so much easier. Soldiers do the real heavy lifting. I never realized how much fighting guardians truly did. How their hearts break with every day. Guardians always seemed so fragile, so dramatic and emotional, so...so helpless from all the years spent living as humans without use of their power...I had no idea…”

“Cas…”

He laughed a little hysterically. “Benny was a soldier too; it was his first guardian gig too, becoming that poor kid who was reaped when his father assaulted him and his mother, but he’s kept up with your brother just fine. Since the moment he and I received our assigned humans, when you two arrived, Benny has been just what your brother needed him to be. I’m the one who failed.”

Sam led him back to the kitchen, and reached for his snacks with trembling hands. Castiel was clearly losing his mind. Was it some kind of fever? Had Castiel ever been sick before? Just how suddenly did something like schizophrenia attack? “Cas, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but…”

He dropped the food package onto the floor and stared at his friend.

Castiel was still weeping, but now, as he stood watching his friend, enormous black wings manifested behind him, tearing free from the gray tee shirt and leaving it in rags.

He felt his lips parting in awe. Then he blinked hard, and realization punched him in the gut. “You’re hurt,” he cried out.

His friend laughed pitifully. “Am I?”

“You-you are! Those wings! They’re...Cas, is this real? Are you really...What are you?”

“I’m a guardian angel, Sam. A poor example of one.”

Sam’s heart was pounding as if he had been running at his top speed for far too long. “But...I’ve known you since we were kids.”

A shaky hand reached up and caressed Sam’s cheek softly, then two gentle fingers touched his forehead.

Immediately, a rush of warmth and wellbeing flooded through him. It was entirely unfamiliar...except that it was what always seemed to radiate from Castiel, in a way that couldn’t be touched before. Strength, warmth, love.

Castiel’s wings dipped so low that black velvet feathers dragged on the floor behind his bare feet. “I’ve wanted to do that since you were a child, Sam. It’s forbidden unless necessary to save your life. All my power has been forbidden to me. But I just can’t do it anymore. Living as a human, watching what you do to yourself, day in and day out...I’m just not good enough, Sam. I was meant to befriend you, to guide you if I could, but your will is so strong, and I wasn’t in any way prepared for loving you so desperately. I asked Benny. It wasn’t like this for him. He loves Dean, enjoys his company, is devoted to him. But he could see how hard I fell for you, and all he could say was that he was so sorry. That he didn’t know how he could help me.”

“Help you?”

“Help me...retain some of my own self. Fight against the way I felt for you. Angels aren’t meant to fall in love with humans, Sam. Something changes in us, makes us reflect what the human feels...You see, don’t you? That once I fell in love with you, I couldn’t help but become your mirror, your shadow. I had to feel every ounce of pain you felt. I don’t know why. Benny thinks it is because, as a guardian, I can feel what you feel, and my love for you somehow mandates it instead of simply allowing it. I was supposed to guide you, Sam, and instead, I’ve been swept under by you, and I couldn’t save either of us.”

Tears were flowing down his own cheeks now, in spite of the healing caress he had experienced. He shook his head at the torn wings, the loss of feathers and sickening way they bent at angles he instinctively knew they shouldn’t. What he knew in his heart must have once been majestic, breathtaking, powerful works of art, were painful to look at now. Somehow, Sam had done this. “You are hurt, aren’t you?” he sobbed.

Castiel glanced back at his wings with shame. “This is what I’ve let you do to us. What I couldn’t stop you from doing to yourself, and what I wouldn’t let you do alone. You won’t nourish yourself properly, nor let yourself rest. You constantly scheme new ways to deprive yourself, just to prove to yourself that you need nothing, and to overwork yourself, to prove you don’t need or deserve to be cared for. You’re only satisfied when you’ve given so much of yourself that there’s nothing left for you. I’m your guardian, Sam. My wings reflect the state of your soul. And if I can’t find a way to help you soon...neither of us will ever fly again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s title comes from Charlie Puth’s “Dangerously” which could describe Castiel’s experience here. “This is gonna hurt, but I blame myself first...”


	6. Silver Pen

“Thank God for kale, am I right?”

Sam’s audience laughed, and Castiel smiled to himself. He sighed and lifted himself to receive his husband the moment he stepped off the stage. As always, he was forced to wait while the doctor fielded questions, signed copies of his books, and generally mingled with his public. He didn’t mind. He liked watching Sam bask in the love of those whose lives he had changed with his words.

He liked watching Sam at all times. He hadn’t decided how he felt about the way Sam had pulled his hair back tonight, but those glasses and dark clothes would never stop making Castiel weak in the knees. His Sam just kept getting better looking every year, and he was entirely grateful for the chance to watch. Castiel could feel his wings tingling with Sam’s adrenaline and pride. He had never felt so healthy as in these last two years. To feel his grace thrumming today, it was hard to remember a time when it had waned. 

“What the hell is kale anyway?”

He smirked at Dean, who was approaching from the other side of the room. “It’s a secret.”

His brother-in-law snorted inelegantly. “See? You don’t know either.”

“Have you talked to Benny lately?” he asked quietly. 

“Sure! Talk to him all the time.” He leaned in to lower his voice. “He told me I should tell you it’s my anniversary. But don’t mention it to Sam, okay?”

He beamed at his old friend. “Is it? What does that make it?”

“Four years, clean and sober. Tell you what, I wouldn’t have made it without Benny. He’s some kind of freaking guardian angel, you know? I told him I wanted to quit, and right there and then, he poured half a beer down the sink, and quit with me. Can’t ask for a better friend than that.” He cleared his throat. “Still...I don’t like for Sam to think about it. He’s got enough on his plate. He shouldn’t have to look back at how things were, not when he could be enjoying the way they are now.”

Castiel watched Sam give a genuine, sweet smile and sign a book, then squeeze the hand of the book’s owner. He sighed happily. “Some kind of freaking guardian angel,” he repeated. 

“Yeah. You ever tell him I said that, I’ll call you a liar. But it’s true. Benny’s always been there for me, you know? Got in trouble with me when I needed some, got clean with me when I needed that too. Kicks me in the ass if I stray too far off the reservation, and gives me a reason to come back. Just like you are for my kid brother, you know?” Dean laughed. “Well. Maybe not just like you are. Benny and I don’t go home to the same bed. Now, there have been a few ladies along the way who climbed into each of ours, but not at the same time.”

His friend made a face. “I’ll never understand your amusement at having dated some of the same women as your best friend.”

Dean’s eyes were soft. “Because he is my best friend. That means so much more to me than any relationship I’ve ever had, other than Sammy himself. Nothing I’d put before Sam. Nothing in the world. But I’m damn lucky to have a kickass guardian angel riding shotgun when I get the itch to drive.”

Castiel smiled. “Just don’t drive faster than he can fly, Winchester,” he advised dryly. “Even angels need a break now and then.”

Sam was tired, but his eyes were bright when he approached them at last. “Hey, guys! How was it?”

Dean shrugged. “You got them all fooled that you know something.”

His brother gave him a playful shove. “I do know something.” He leaned down to peck at his husband’s lips, eliciting a soft sigh. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Doctor.” He couldn’t help the look of worship he knew was in his gaze. He had long since stopped worrying that his love for Sam bordered dangerously on idolatry. God was free to speak up if he didn’t approve. Or at least send a memo through Host middle management. 

One final person appeared at Sam’s side, shyly clutching a well-loved paperback edition of Sam’s second book, entitled, “Love Yourself First.” She cleared her throat twice. “Dr. Winchester?” she squeaked. 

He turned and gifted her a brilliant grin. Castiel nearly felt sorry for the young woman. Sam had always been an incredible force of nature, but he was nearly lethal in his charisma now that he had found peace within himself. The past few years, he had become nearly painfully beautiful, and Castiel knew better than anyone just how it felt to be on the receiving end of one of those smiles. 

“I-I just wanted...Will you sign it? It...This book saved my life. I know you hear it all the time, but…” The young woman was a lovely shade of pink, and couldn’t meet his eye. “But I’m here today because of what you wrote. And getting to hear you speak, listening to-to you talk, like you’re talking right to me, about how taking care of myself isn’t weakness or selfishness, but gratitude...That loving myself is a lifelong goal, that it will be something I struggle with my whole life, but that it’s a worthy battle...I just needed to thank you. Every year I’m alive is because you keep me fighting.”

Sam reached out and touched the woman’s shoulder with admirable grace. “What’s your name?”

“Zoe.”

He nodded, and took her book to sign with the silver pen in the shape of a small feather he kept in his pocket. Then he handed both the book and the pen to her. “Zoe, I want my pen back next year. Okay? My husband gave me that pen, and it means a lot to me. If you will keep it safe for me for a year, and return it when I do my workshop in this city next fall, I’ll be really grateful. If you show my manager the pen, he will give you free admission. Can you do that? And anytime fighting gets hard, you can remember that you made me a promise?” 

Tears spilled over her lashes when she nodded. “I will. I’ll return it, I promise.”

He smiled at her. “Do you have someone to help you?”

She nodded mutely. 

“Good. Reach out when you need help. You deserve to take care of yourself, Zoe. I’ll see you in one year. Second weekend in October, just like this year. It’s a date. Okay?”

Once the woman had hurried away with her treasure, Sam turned back to see that his brother was sniffing suspiciously, with red outlining his green eyes. 

“Dean?”

“Is that what you do? For all these people? You give them a reason to keep fighting?”

Sam smiled. “You didn’t think it was really about the kale, did you?”

Dean coughed through his emotion. Then he nodded. “Well, you were always my reason.”

Castiel watched his husband’s eyes widen slightly. 

The older man coughed again. “I gotta get going. I’m meeting Benny for a few rounds of cards. I’m proud of you, kid. And I’m glad I came. You’re kind of a hero, aren’t you?”

The angel could see the impact these words had on his husband, and he took his hand for support. 

Dean swiped at one eye with his thumb, muttered something about allergies, barked that they should call him sometime, and strode toward the exit as quickly as he could. 

Sam turned very slowly to Castiel. “What just happened?” he laughed. 

“You made your brother cry,” he supplied helpfully. “Also, it’s his four year anniversary of being sober.”

Happiness shone from Sam’s eyes, and again Castiel felt his hidden wings pulse with strength. “Proud of you too, big brother,” he murmured to the exit. Then he pulled Castiel closer. “I need a new pen.”

“You’ll get that one back.”

“I always get them back. But I’ve given them all away, and someone might need one in the meantime. Besides, even when I get them returned, I loan them out to the same person for another year, on the same promise. I need a new pen.”

Castiel gave him an indulgent smile, and reached over his own shoulders. Though his wings were hidden from touch and view, he was able to pluck a primary feather from one, and hand it over. 

Sam sighed with quiet delight as he watched the precious feather change in size and color to form a beautiful, brushed silver tool of calligraphy. The sheer happiness he felt was an instant balm to Castiel’s wing, and the sting of the pluck was gone in an instant. 

“Fit to watch over whomever you deem to be in need of it,” he promised. 

“More than fit. This is a feather from my guardian angel, Cas. This pen is pure magic. This is a piece of my soul. It always comes back to me, so the person I give it to will always be safe while it is with them.” He kissed his angel’s lips with a sigh of pleasure. “I’ll never understand why I was given a guardian angel, Cas. Why do my brother and I deserve someone watching over us more than any others?”

Castiel gave the answer he always did. “If there were enough angels to go ‘round, everyone would have one. Since there aren’t? You and Dean might not deserve it more, but you don’t deserve it any less. I don’t know how humans are chosen, not any more than I know how angels are chosen. Benny and I have felt lucky beyond imagination. Especially me, Sam.”

Green eyes flecked with amber-brown gazed into his face with fondness. “Especially you?”

There were still other humans about, on the other side of the room, but it was like nothing else existed when Sam looked at him that way. “Especially me,” he confirmed. “I was a lonely soldier, living each day, each era, to do my duty and nothing more. I didn’t even realize how lost I had become. I was lost until I took on your pain, Sam.”

Sam touched his cheek gently. “I’m sorry it was so painful for so long. Years went by before you told me what...what I was doing to us.”

“By the time I told you, I was certain it was too late. I expected my disobedience, telling you my true nature, healing you, showing my wings...I expected Heaven to rip me from earth and punish my insolence. That I was permitted to stay simply meant being permitted to suffer and die alongside you. I would never have left your side, Sam, but I couldn’t make you treat yourself right. You had to do that. I healed you once, against orders, in a moment of weakness and desperation. But you saved us both. You had to learn to trust yourself. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t do that for you, but I do now.”

“Everyone has to find their own way, Cas. Even just asking for help, admitting you need help, is a means of self-preservation. I know now that I didn’t want to be saved. My dad didn’t accept any help except from my brother. I was determined not even to do that. I called it being ready for anything. Training, studying, so that I would never need anyone. And we both learned that, for a guardian angel to do his job, the human has to want help. Dean went to Benny when he needed to. You were always there for me, but I refused to lean on you until I’d nearly killed us both.”

He closed his eyes. “I would have lay down beside you and let it take me. If I could suffer it instead of you, I would have. The most I could do was suffer it with you. But once you asked for help, once you realized you needed help and deserved it, everything changed.”

“It’s been hard. Even now, it’s hard.”

Castiel put a hand through his lover’s hair, below the band that held it back from his face. “I know it is. But neither of us has ever been afraid of hard work. And I love you with everything I am, Sam. Everything you do for you, you’re doing it for me too. Being good to yourself keeps me healthy. Letting yourself rest rejuvenates me. Loving you is the best thing you can do for me, and I adore you for it.”

“Cas? Thank you for guiding me. Even before I let you. You were always there.”

“It’s what I’m meant to do, and it’s the most noble mission I’ll ever be given. It’s been my honor and my pleasure. And I’ll do it with my whole heart the rest of our days.”

“When we get back to the suite, will you let your wings out?” Sam whispered into his ear. 

Castiel shivered with anticipation. “You know I will.”

Sam caught his lips again, promising with his kiss that Castiel would be glad he did.


End file.
